


Where You Wanna Be

by TheSaturnianWildcat



Series: The Rabbit Hole [5]
Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, M/M, Weird dreams, crying child and cassidy are the same person, dw none are trigger tags, fnaf 1 events, i havent decided yet, mike and jeremy might have had feelings for each other in the past, mike has to face up to his past, whether he likes it or not, withholding some tags for spoiler purposes, yea im biting the bullet and making a mike/jeremy subplot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 22:46:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29500155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSaturnianWildcat/pseuds/TheSaturnianWildcat
Summary: After dreaming of a job opening at Freddy Fazbear’s, Michael finds the next morning that Freddy’s has been revived and is looking for just that. Despite Henry’s cautioning, he takes the job, feeling its destiny. Little does he know, someone wanted him to take that job and that his past is going to come knocking.
Relationships: Michael Afton & Henry Emily, Michael Afton/Jeremy Fitzgerald
Series: The Rabbit Hole [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130282
Comments: 11
Kudos: 33





	1. Seeking Security Guard

Michael was dreaming again. Instead of his room though, this time found him in the living room in a much happier atmosphere. The curtains were open, letting golden light stream inside, dying the whole room in warm colors. The TV was on, an episode of Fredbear and Friends playing. On the couch was the Fredbear plush, situated as if it was watching the TV. Michael approached it and waved his hand in front of it, half-expecting it to speak up. But it did not.

No one else was in the room and from the quiet, in the house whatsoever. In fact, there was almost nothing on the center table. That is except a newspaper on the side closest to his father’s recliner. He picked it up, seeing a help wanted ad circled in red. He couldn’t make his eyes focus on anything else.

HELP WANTED

Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza

Family pizzeria looking for security guard to work the nightshift. 12 am to 6 am.

Monitor cameras, ensure safety of equipment and animatronic characters.

Not responsible for injury.

$90.00 a week.

To apply, call 1-888-FAZ-FAZBEAR

Beside it was a black and white photo of Freddy from his prime in the 80’s. Michael raised his eyebrows. An old ad...did it mean something?

Before he could ponder further, he slipped out of the dream and into a dreamless sleep.

Despite the whole “not being able to eat” thing, Michael usually came downstairs to spend breakfast with Henry. While Henry munched on toast, half-reading through the newspaper, Michael was sketching in a new sketchbook. All the free time he had on his hands found him picking up his artistic hobby again. He was just touching up the shading on a tree when Henry swore, slamming the newspaper down.

Michael’s eyes flicked up to face him and he wordlessly raised his eyebrow. Henry seethed, pointing to the newspaper, “It’s a disgrace, it’s disrespectful...it’s like digging up my own child and making a spectacle of them!”

Michael grimaced and Henry waved him off, “Okay, okay, bad word choice. Just look at it!”

He picked up the newspaper and nearly gasped. It was an ad for a job opening at the “new Freddy Fazbear’s pizza” for the nightshift. It was near identical from the one in his dream except the Freddy looked subtly different, the paycheck was more, they promised priority to Freddy’s veterans and, most worrying, they were also not responsible for dismemberment as well as injury. “How’d we miss them opening it back up?” he asked.

Henry grumbled, not answering, probably a little ashamed they had.

Michael stared back at the ad. This meant something, it had to. He set it down and grabbed his pencil again, scrawling the number down along the side of his drawing. “Michael,” Henry warned, “You better not be doing what I think you’re doing!”

“What!” Michael threw up his arms, flinging his pencil somewhere in the living room as a result, “What are they going to do?! Kill me again?!

Henry crossed his arms and Mike mimicked him, raising his head so he was staring down at him. They stayed that way for a minute, Michael determined to not crack first. He smirked when Henry sighed deeply, “Alright, boy. Just be careful for god’s sake!”

Michael cracked a grin, “Don’t worry ‘bout that. I really feel I need to take this job, you feel me?”

“We do need to look into this, see if we can set the children free, I suppose,” Henry reluctantly agreed then propped his head on his hand, “One issue. How are you dealing with...all this,” he gestured vaguely to him.

“I think I’ve got an idea.”

Michael called right away to find the boss was ecstatic about an inquiry so quickly after he posted the ad. They needed a night guard as soon as possible so that meant he wanted him in that afternoon. He didn’t even need to bring in a resume, just be ready to fill out an application. Very shady but Michael wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

He came downstairs soon after, stopping at where the stairs led out into the living room. He ‘ahem’ed to get Henry’s attention. Michael looked presentable with a blue button-up, black slacks and boots. The presentability got a little shaky with the addition of leather gloves and a scarf then fell apart completely with the Foxy mask tied around his face. His eyes literally lit up as he asked, “How do I look?”

‘Ridiculous’ was the first thing that came to Henry’s mind but he didn’t say that. Instead, he asked, “You don’t think they’ll get you on the mask?”

“Oh no, no,” he waved him off, “I’ll just make a big deal of how I have a condition that makes me _absolutely hideous._ Plus, I’m working the night shift so does it matter?”

A pause then, “I suppose not. This is Fazbear Entertainment we’re talking about.”

Michael chuckled, “Well, I’m off. Wish me luck! I don’t think I’ll need it but do it anyway!” and off he was, out the door.

Henry wasn’t sure if his statement was a testament to his confidence or his lack of faith in Fazbear caring.

All things considered, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza did not look bad. It obviously showed wearing but with a fresh coat of paint and a new logo depicting Freddy, Chica and Bonnie rocking out, it looked presentable. As he walked up to the building, he smiled softly, remembering fond memories of the previous iteration.

Inside, it wasn’t very busy, which wasn’t very surprising considering it was a Monday in the autumn. A few families sat about, watching their children run every which way, shrieking with delight. It didn’t bother Michael in the slightest, it brought a sort of comfort to him. Of course, considering he had been living in near isolation the last few years, it didn’t surprise him. Thankfully, no one stared at the weird man in the mask.

He stopped in front of the man at the register, “I’m here to apply for the night guard position?”

The man raised an eyebrow, “Really into the place, huh?”

“You can say that.”

“Well, let me get the ol’ boss,” he stood straight and disappeared into one of the halls.

He leaned on the counter, surveying the restaurant as he waited. Freddy and his friends were out, singing to an old tune Michael remembered from years ago. He frowned. He couldn’t imagine being stuck in a suit, forced to play and sing the same things for years on end. He had been stuck in a similar routine for years now but he still had the freedom to go where he liked, albeit under the cover of shadow.

“Mike, m’boy, you showed up!”

He turned to see a man returning with the cashier. He wore a suit that didn’t look like it fit too well and had slicked back black hair. He smiled, “Glad you showed up! What’s with the mask though? Not up to no good, are you?” he laughed merrily, as if he told a joke.

Mike hung his head, making sure to slump his shoulders so he appeared collapsed inward on himself, “Er, no. I have a condition. Isn’t the best for...trying to make an impression. I realllly needed this job though.”

The ploy worked perfectly and the boss stuttered, “Oh, I meant no offense! Didn’t mean to...hey, you’re in theme and that’s just fine! Here’s your application!” he practically shoved the sheaf of papers into Michael’s hand, “You can fill it out right here and bring it back.”

Michael smiled under his mask and left to find a suitably secluded place to sit. That place ended up being in the corner closest to Foxy’s Pirate Cove. He frowned at the Out of Order sign. Well, that explained why the curtains were drawn.

He sat and began filling out the application. He had already told the man his name was Mike, maybe not the best idea, so he had to commit to it. _‘Mike Schmidt should work’,_ he thought as he jotted it down. And if it didn’t, then oh well. He didn’t expect to hold the job for very long, if the rumors from back then still applied.

He wasn’t completely untruthful though, sprinkling in some truth in between the lies. Maybe he should have felt bad for playing these guys but he really didn’t. Dredging this place up for one last hurrah left a bad taste in his mouth, even if it provided him an opportunity to learn something.

“Hey, mister!” a kid stopped beside him, tugging on the end of his shirt to get his attention.

He turned to look at him and the kid jabbed a finger at the mask, “Is Foxy your favorite?”

Caught off guard, Michael did not respond right away then nodded, “Has been since I was a kid. Doesn’t look like he’s out at the minute though.”

The kid nodded, “They say Captain Foxy isn’t feeling so well and needs to be fixed. But I wanna see him!”

He shot a glance back at Pirate Cove then back at the kid, “I’m sure they’ll have Foxy back up soon. How will he plunder the high seas broken!”

For good measure, he hooked one of his fingers and gave his best impression of the pirate fox, “Argh, there’s booty to be had, after all!”

The kid giggled and ran off, probably to tell his friends about him. He smiled and resumed filling out his application with a warm feeling.

Once he was done, the cashier directed him to the boss’ office where he handed him the application. “Great! You can wait outside and I’ll come get you with my answer!” he boomed, shooing him away.

Michael obeyed, internally remarking that it was either shady or desperate he was going to make a decision that fast. But he stayed quiet and stepped back out into the dining room. He wandered up to the stage and looked at the trio of animatronics. They did look better last time he saw them but last time he saw them, they were in pieces and stained. These got a full makeover with a new shell. Despite that, it was obvious they weren’t getting regular maintenance. They sometimes locked up for a moment before continuing their movements, their voice boxes occasionally skipped and by the sound of their joints, they hadn’t been oiled. A jolt of sadness ran through him.

Too bad he couldn’t get a job fixing this guys up. He almost doubted they even had a person for it. Between his rudimentary knowledge and what Henry could teach him, he could probably get them in better condition and use that to curry the spirits’ favor. He shook his head. It was a nice idea but ultimately a pipe dream.

Next, he visited Pirate Cove, peeking through the curtains. Foxy sat inside, powered down, slumped in hunched over position. He was getting even less maintenance, his shell in disrepair. Everything from the waist down was gone, revealing his dingy endoskeleton. There was a large rip in his chest and various smaller ones all over. Michael frowned, “Oh, Cap’n. Me and you have both seen better days, huh?”

He closed the curtain before someone could come over and lay into him. He sat back down in his seat, idly watching the animatronics perfom while he waited.

It didn’t take long for the boss to return. He beamed, “Mr. Schmidt, you’ve got yourself a job!”

Michael blinked in genuine confusion, he hadn’t expected him to return that fast, “Really?”

The boss nodded, ‘Of course!”

“Wow, thank you!” he smiled, this one being exaggerated.

The boss chuckled, obviously a little proud in himself, “You think you can come in tonight?”

Internally, Michael groaned. Oh well, he’d pick up some caffeine gum on his way home. Despite most of his body functions defunct at this point, he still was capable of running out of steam. He nodded and got up.

“Great! Now, come along and I’ll show you your office. Get you a uniform too,” he gestured for him to follow him down one of the two halls.

Despite his better judgment, he ventured, “I don’t believe it myself but...is this place really haunted? Like the rumors say?”

The boss stopped so abruptly, Mike nearly crashed into him. He turned on him, his face red as fire, “Now forget everything you heard about this place! It’s not haunted! If the animatronics move, it’s because their servos would lock up otherwise! If you hear children crying or screaming at night or banging in the walls, its the building settling! And if you’re seeing things you shouldn’t, then you need a therapist! Am I clear?!”

Michael nodded quickly, “Crystal clear, boss. I apologize.”

Alright, pretend the place isn’t totally haunted. The boss relaxed and started walking again, “Let me show you the office so I can get you a uniform.”

“Lead the way.”

The office was small, a bit bigger than a closet. It had two doorways which felt like a weird...but concerning design choice. He kept any complaints to himself though, hovering outside one of the doorways as the boss pushed the creaky desktop chair out of the way to access the locker at the very back. “What size are you?” he asked.

“Medium,” a very baggy medium but a medium nonetheless.

While he searched for a medium, Michael stepped just inside. Right inside, by the door, was two buttons, one red and one white. One side of the room was dominated by a desk with a monitor on one side and three stacked on the other which appeared to be defunct. There was a remote set on top of the working monitor that he figured controlled it. At the back was a landline and voicemail machine. A turned off fan was also sat on the desk, making him wonder if the AC shut off at night. At least it was November.

“You’ll have a message tonight from the previous guy but here’s the gist. Main power shuts off at midnight and the night generator kicks on. Main power doesn’t come back on until six so it’s best you be careful about your power usage. I advise you to come in before midnight to get your bearings. Am I clear?” the boss asked.

“Crystal,”

The boss withdrew a package, “I like you Schmidt. Here’s your uniform,” he grinned as he handed it over.

Michael smiled at the uniform. They really hadn’t changed it, huh? Still the same purple shirt, black pants, gleaming gold badge and a purple hat. He tucked it under his arm and asked, “Anything else, boss?”

“Hm, just don’t go tampering with anything but hey! I’d think that would be common sense!” he chuckled, elbowing Michael in the side.

He cringed but smiled forcefully, “I would think so!”

“Now get outta here, Schmidt! If you know what’s good for you, you’d get some rest!” the man waved him away, a suggestion he took to heart as he left down the hall at a hasty pace.

Once out, Michael sighed in relief. He hadn’t been interacting with many people nowadays, beside Henry and the occasional gas station clerk. That man sapped as much social energy in his battery as he had in it. He was more than happy when he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the highway. One pro to working the night shift, he supposed, was that he wouldn’t have to deal with anyone.

Once home, he stepped in and called, “Got the job!”

“That didn’t take long!” came Henry’s distant call from upstairs.

Taking the steps two at a time, he ran up and poked his head into his office, “Yep!”

Henry chuckled, looking up from his papers, “Is it me or do you sound excited?”

Michael leaned up against the door frame, “Maybe a bit, it’s not like I’ve had a whole lot going on.”

“I’d say considering you’re excited about a job that’ll most likely be dangerous.”

“Welp, I’m off to bed, they need me in tonight!”

“You agreed to go in tonight?!” Henry called but Mike had already left for his room.

Michael slept well, his sleep unhindered by any more cryptic dreams. However, it was soured by his 10 pm alarm. As he dressed, putting on a sweater underneath to give the illusion that he wasn’t skeletal thin, he found his earlier excitement was waning. He and Henry were both pretty sure the animatronics would be hostile, just as they were back in the 80s. “Well, at least it can’t get worse than Circus Baby’s…” he grumbled.

He pinned his Night Watch badge on and chuckled, despite everything, “What a low bar to pass.”

There was no one at the restaurant when he got there, as it was way past the cleaning crew’s hour. He locked the door behind him as he stepped inside. Lights were sparse, the main one being one was a single light in the dining room, casting everything in shadow. He shouldered his bag and took off his mask, taking an appreciative gasp. It was a bit stifling to tell the truth. He stowed the mask in his bag and headed for the office.

As he walked past the animatronics, he cast a glance at them. They were still, giving no hint to their true nature.

Once inside his office, he dropped his bag beside the desk. He brought along a few things, among them a taser, but it was designated as a “last resort”. Along with the Foxy mask that he set on the desk. The taser was because he didn’t want to send a bad impression to the spirits and the mask was because he had no idea if it would help at all.

Finally, he sat in the chair and cast a glance to the voicemail machine at the back of the desk. It read 11:45. Alright, so fifteen minutes to gain his bearings.

He clicked the button on it and let the message play, the voice of a man who sounded like he’d rather be anywhere else filling the room, “Hello? Hello, hello? Uhh, I wanted to record a message for you... to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I’m... finishing up my last week now, as a matter of fact, so... I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I’m here to tell you: there’s nothing to worry about. Uh, you’ll do fine! So... let’s just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?”

Well, that explained why the job was needed. This lucky fellow must have gotten out. The message droned on about legal stuff, some suspect. Including that he’d only be reported missing once they cleaned?! No wonder no one could pin anything on his dad. His lip curled as the message continued.

“Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit quirky at night, but do I blame them? No! If I were forced to sing... those same stupid songs for twenty years, and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So remember: these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children, and you need to show them a little respect. Right? Okay.”

“Quirky, huh? Confirms my suspicions, “ Michael said as he inspected the monitor.

He clicked it on and it showed the feed from the dining room. A small map of the establishment was at the corner, showing where each camera was located. Each camera was mapped to a button on the remote, allowing him to navigate the cameras quickly. The only downside was the resolution was awful, meaning he had to lean in close. Still, he preferred it over the supposed “advanced technology” back at the sister location, considering the HandUnit was glitchy at best and downright malicious at worst.

According to the phone guy, the animatronics had a free-roam mode at night so their servos wouldn’t lock up, just as the boss had said. As Michael had grown up around these machines, he knew that wasn’t true in the slightest. They didn’t function like that normally.

Though, it was true that once animatronics were allowed to walk during the day and that the reason for this practice being discontinued was the Bite of ‘87.

He frowned deeply at the memory. Jeremy Fitzgerald, one of his best friends in high school and by the end, his only friend. He had worked at Fazbear Junior’s during the summer of ‘87. A summer job, nothing more he said, to go towards a college fund. At the end of the week, one of the animatronics malfunctioned and lashed out at him. Once Michael had heard the news he disobeyed one of the few orders his father ever gave him, to not talk to his old friends who participated in the accident, and left like a shot for the hospital.

He shook his head. If Jeremy had any sense, he’d be long gone out of this cursed town.

“Now concerning your safety: the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, uhh, if they happen to see you after hours, probably won’t recognize you as a person. Th-They’ll most likely see you as a metal endoskeleton without its costume on. Now, since that’s against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear’s Pizza, they’ll probably try to... forcefully stuff you inside a suit. Um, now that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits themselves weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So you can imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort... and death. Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh. ...Y-Yeah, they don’t tell you these things when you sign up…”

Michael shuddered. Not the same thing that happened to him but it came a little too close to home. Not to mention that he wasn’t exactly sure what would happen if they got him in a suit except it would be very painful. “So keep them away so I don’t become a matryoshka doll? Gotcha, Mr. Phone Guy.”

The call concluded quickly after that, giving him the rest of his time on the main power to fiddle with the tools at his disposal.

Midnight hit and the lights immediately went out. The gentle thrum of most of the building’s systems cut off, leaving him in total silence. Michael murmured into the dark, “Alright, it’s go time.”

He flicked to the main stage camera and watched. No one moved. He flicked to a few more cameras before returning to the main stage just in time to see Bonnie stir and step off the stage. Entranced, he switched to the dining room so he could watch the rabbit shamble across the dining room, coming to a stop in between some of the tables. A loud whining played through the tinny speaker of the monitor before the camera cut to static.

Michael swore. Alright, the kids didn’t like to be stared at. He jumped cameras, waiting for the downed one to reboot. When it did, Bonnie had moved. For a while, he tracked him in between eying the main stage. Eventually, he couldn’t find him at all. Dreading what he may see, Michael pressed the door light.

Bonnie was looking through him at through the window and screeched once the light came on. Fast as a shot, he closed the door.

After a while, he heard Bonnie leave. Daring to look out into the hall, he looked out to see Bonnie mechanically returning to stage. He didn’t get a second to rest though because the camera showed Chica was on the move.

Michael continued the same routine now except for Chica. By the time she returned to stage, Bonnie was once again moving. But the alarm clock went off before he could make it to him. Michael could see the rabbit returning to stage as the lights clicked back on. He allowed himself a moment of reprieve, leaning back in his chair.

That was...stressful. But not as bad as he thought. He laughed to himself. Man, how broken was his danger assessment if this wasn’t the worst that it could be? He shook his head as he donned his Foxy mask and slung his bag across his shoulder.

There was a stranger waiting at the door to be let in, which made Michael glad to have put on his mask. As he got closer, he nearly choked. The stranger had long blonde hair tied back with a grey headband but if that didn’t tip him off to who it was, the long scar stretching across his forehead did. It was Jeremy, Jeremy Fitzgerald. Quickly, he composed himself and opened the door.

Jeremy smiled, seemingly not recognizing him, “You’re the new nigh watch, huh?”

Michael nodded silently and he grinned, “Sick mask! My buddy used to have one…,” he trailed off then waved him off, “Nevermind, that. Don’t let me keep you.”

He nodded frantically and sped walk past him, sprinting once he got out the door. Jeremy watched him flee with confusion. He might have thought it was Michael himself if he hadn’t moved away years ago. And the fact that this guy was a bit shorter and a lot skinnier than him. The boss was coming in just as Michael was running out and sent a glance at his car, as he was unlocking it, “Wonder what’s got Schmidt in such a hurry. Wanted to ask him how his night went,” he wondered.

“He didn’t seem hurt. Maybe the robots spooked him,” Jeremy paused, “Schmidt, you say?”

“Yeah, Mike Schmidt. Why, you know him?”

Jeremy looked away as he stepped in, “I think I might have gone to school with a Mike,” he smiled to himself.

Mike wasted no time peeling out of the parking lot and ripping his mask off to toss into the back seat. Why was Jeremy there?! Had he lost his mind with age?!

This made everything all the more complicated. By some miracle, he didn’t recognize him but he did know the mask. He groaned. This was going to be a convoluted job, wasn’t it?


	2. The Spectre from '83

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael catches up with Jeremy amid working at Freddy's and has quite the fright his third night, as something he wishes he would never see again appears.

When Michael got home, Henry was there to greet him, despite it being earlier than he usually was awake for. It was a small gesture but one he appreciated. “How’d work go?” he asked from in front of the coffee maker.

Michael sat at the table, taking his hat off as he did, “Just how I expected...which is to say: stressful.”

Henry filled his mug and joined him, “I reckon that means they still move?”

He nodded. Henry sighed deeply, “And I reckon you’re going to keep at it?”

Michael idly traced his finger across the table, “...I want to see if I can help.”

There was a pause from Henry before he murmured, “Michael, you have too good of a heart…”

He smiled back softly then carefully deflected, “Jeremy’s working there, you know?”

Henry adjusted his glasses, furrowing his eyebrows, “You mean Fitzgerald? From Junior’s?”

He nodded so he prodded him, “Did he recognize you?”

“Don’t think so but it’s a matter of time,” Michael sighed, “What am I going to tell him?”

“The truth, I guess. Skin condition won’t explain where your nose and eyes went,” he smiled wryly.

“Oh, fuck off,” he rolled his eyes, “Anyway, I’m surprised he went back.”

“Surprised they let him back. His parents took them for all they had to pay for his medical care.”

After that, he went back up to his room to sleep, so he’d at least have some evening to himself before he had to continue the cycle.

That night, when Michael entered the restaurant, he didn’t go to his office right away. Instead, he went over to the animatronics, stopping in front of them, feeling somewhat foolish. “Hey kids,” he started, “I’m pretty sure you’re in there and listening. Look, I’m on your side. I want to help you. I can’t really do that in a suit, right?” he smiled weakly.

They did not respond, staring vacantly ahead. He sighed, “Just...keep it in mind before you mangle me, alright?”

Not quite satisfied, he decided to snoop. Slinging his bag around to where he could unzip it, he fished in it until he withdrew a flashlight. Thick and industrial, just in case he had to wack someone or if it needed to endure some damage. He flicked it on, shining it over the empty dining room. It passed over Parts and Services, a good enough place to start.

Parts and Services rooms always gave Mike the creeps. Empty heads stared vacantly at him from the shelves, coated in a layer of dust. An endoskeleton slumped over at the far end of the table. Against one wall was a toolbox, above it a thin window letting moonlight barely illuminate the room. In the very corner was something under a tarp. He raised an eyebrow and approached.

Almost immediately, the air weighed on him, suffocating him. Michael suddenly felt dizzy and grabbed the table’s edge for support. The air was suddenly thick with the iron stench of blood and screams rang in his ears. Without thinking, he turned tail and fled the way he came, closing the door behind him.

He stopped, leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath out of pure psychological instinct than any true need. The air already felt clearer out here, less heavy.

There was something haunted under the tarp, really haunted. Henry had warned him about the effects of hauntings. Other than the typical aggressive animatronics, a haunting could cause hallucinations, odd sensations, flashbacks even. And considering the history Michael had with Freddy’s, there was no shortage of terrible memories to dredge up.

He squeezed his eyes shut. But only one involved that much blood.

Rather than dwell on it, he trudged to the office to wait for midnight.

The Phone Guy’s message helpfully informed him that as the week went on, the animatronics would become more active and aggressive. Freddy rarely became active but when he did, it was typically when the lights were off. A chilling reminder to preserve his power. There was also blind spots, two in particular were on the outsides of his doors. _That explains where Bonnie went last night_ , he thought.

The final tip was to keep an eye on Foxy who got antsy when you didn’t look at him often. Envisioning just what damage he could do with his hook, Michael flicked over to the Pirate Cove camera, “Alright, Captain. How about you stay over there?”

Once more, the power switched to the night generator and the game was on. Bonnie and Chica were more active tonight, making Mike more mindful of his power usage. Despite keeping an eye on Foxy, the fox steadily crept out of his stage until he was gone. “Fuck,” Michael hissed as he heard the sound of metal on tile zeroing in on him.

He slammed the button and the door closed with a heavy _ca-chank_! A moment later, he could hear Foxy banging on the door, hissing his frustration. “Nooooo,” Michael groaned as he watched his power click down with every bang. Finally, Foxy left as quickly as he had arrived.

Luckily, Foxy did not run again that night and by the time his alarm went off and the lights returned, his power wasn’t as bad as it could be. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes with an appreciative sigh. Good news, that still wasn’t nearly as stressful as he feared. Bad news, it would eventually get that stressful. He pressed his palms into his eyes and groaned.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be doing here. He did confirm that the place was haunted but the children obviously were more intent on killing him than allowing him to help. “C’mon, it’s not like I even look like Dad anymore!” he cried to the empty air.

Grumbling, he fastened his Foxy mask on, grabbed his bag and left for the front door. He needed some sort of guide, a sign. But for now, he was intent on getting home and getting some sleep.

No one was waiting at the door so he unlocked it and decided to wait for someone to come by in his car. It wasn’t long because as he walked to his car, he could see Jeremy’s little pine green car pull in. He turned to unlock his car and heard a cry from across the parking lot, “Hey!”

He stiffened. Oh hell. He turned to see Jeremy jogging across the lot. He straightened and hoped the damage to his throat would disguise his voice, “You’re the day hire…?”

Jeremy stopped, panting a bit, but nodded, “Jeremy, Jeremy Fitzgerald!”

He nodded shortly, “Whatcha need? I unlocked the door for you.”

The other man smirked and crossed his arms, “Yeah. Why is Michael Afton working at Freddy’s under a fake name.”

“Fuck.”

Jeremy cackled, “That’s the Mike I know! You do know ‘Mike Schmidt’ is like the worst name you could have picked?”

“It was off the top of my head alright?”

He chuckled, “Alright, one question answered. How about why you’re here?”

Michael rocked on his heels before simply answering, “Curiosity. How ‘bout you?”

“They were offerin’ priority to Freddy’s vets and well, I needed a job and it’s not easy to find one in this town…” he trailed off, “Say, I never thought I’d see you wear this old thing again,” he poked him in the snout of his mask.

_He’s really rapid-firing off the questions_ , Michael thought with an internal sigh. “I have...a condition,” his shoulders slumped except he was genuinely embarrassed.

Jeremy’s face fell, “Oh hell, man. I’m so sorry. You don’t have to feel bad about tellin’ me though,” he brushed his bangs away to reveal his scar.

He smiled under his mask and, impulsively, made a decision, “I can tell you what happened. When do you get off work?”

“After two!”

“Alright, meet me at the park then. Just promise me you won’t go broadcasting it around,” he held out his hand.

Taking it, he looked Michael in the eye, “You know I wouldn’t.”

Right, right. Jeremy never judged him...especially after the accident. He smiled, even though he couldn’t see it, “It’s a plan then.”

Jeremy let go, “I gotta head on in, there’s the boss,” he jabbed his thumb at a black car pulling in.

He nodded and waved, “Have a good day then,”

“Don’t tell me anything weird, alright?!” he called as he jogged inside.

“I can’t promise you that…,” Michael murmured.

Jeremy stepped inside, turning back to see Michael get into his car. His hand had felt so thin and bony, even under his gloves. What in the world kind of condition did Michael contract?

In any case, he wondered the entirety of his shift. He wasn’t sure how he felt about Michael taking the job as night guard. As a former night guard, he was sick with worry for him. He knew better than anyone (apart from maybe one other) that the animatronics were haunted and that they were capable of really hurting, even killing, someone. He had even confided in him, all those years ago, that he just knew they were haunted! Curiosity seemed like such a petty motive when Michael had seen what the Mangle had done to him. He frowned tightly as he swept up the confetti left over from the last birthday party.

He was infinitely excited when he got off work, all his anxiety and suspicion dissolving in the wake of being able to talk to Michael for the first time in years. He just about went right to the park but barely restrained himself, going home to change in warmer clothes. Admittingly, he did have a crush on the other boy in high school, it was his motivation to join Michael’s friend circle. He didn’t actually know if he returned those feelings but there was never a chance to find out. Michael was always dealing with one tragedy after another up until he ran away.

Admittingly, he thought the crush never went away.

At the park, he stepped in, surveying the park. It wasn’t very active, as it was the middle of November. Finally, he spotted him sitting under a tree. As he approached, Jeremy frowned. Now that he was thinking about it, he could see how baggy Michael’s clothes sat on him, as if he was rail-thin under them. He was also wearing his mask. He stopped in front of him, “Heya, Mike.”

Michael looked up at him, “Hi Jer.”

He grinned at the nickname. He hadn’t heard that since Michael moved away, a couple months after his accident. Mike stood and waved him to follow, “Come with me.”

Raising an eyebrow, Jeremy complied. He lead them to the tiny trail in the back of the park, winding through spindly trees. He stopped under a rock formation and stepped around it so they were out of sight. “Are you alright, Michael?” Jeremy asked.

He nodded and placed his hand on his mask, “Promise you won’t freak out.”

Jeremy shot him a small but warm smile, “You’ve got yet to freak me out, Mike.”

“Right, right…” nonetheless, he squeezed his eyes shut as he pulled the mask off.

Jeremy sharply inhaled, his hand instinctively shooting up to meet his face. He paused and murmured, “May I?”

One of Michael’s eyes shot open and he nodded slowly. He let his hand rest on his face, nearly cringing at how his cheekbone pressed directly up against his dry and rough skin and the scars crisscrossing his face. His eyes were absent, replaced by two purple pinpricks shining within. He had thought they were just some fancy feature of the mask. He breathed, “What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Michael smiled sadly, “But with everything in this town, it starts with my dad.”

Michael told the whole, long story, leaving out some of the bigger bombshells like his dad being the Bunny Killer. Jeremy only needed one bombshell at a time, he reasoned. A good idea as, as the story went on, Jeremy got more and more distressed, wringing his hands and fidgeting anxiously. At the end, he finally blew up, “But...but you should be dead! I’m glad you’re not but still! How?!”

“You and me both,” Michael sighed, “I haven’t quite found out. Don’t worry though, I’m doing pretty alright for a dead man.”

Jeremy smiled and he returned the smile, glad to see him reassured, “So I’m guessing you’re not, er, like rotting anymore? Is that okay to ask?”

Michael laughed, “It’s alright. But nah, I must have stopped when I was out that first week. Whatever is keeping me alive is courteous enough to not let me rot into nothing.”

Jeremy shook his head, “Glad to hear but man this is all just so insane. And that thing, your sister, is still out there?”

“Probably but there’s no way they’re a threat at the minute. Was just a bundle of wires last time I saw them.”

“So anyway,” Michael continued as he tied his mask, “What have you been up to? Never got out of Hurricane like you wanted?”

Jeremy sighed deeply and he already regretted asking. “All that lawsuit money has gone to so many surgeries and treatments. By the time I was at a good place, I just...I just wasn’t equipped to deal with college. Can’t focus and just too impulsive at times,” he shook his head, “So I stuck around. My parents have helped me out, my mom passed a couple years back. I don’t really have anywhere else to go.”

“Damn, man. I’m sorry. I feel really bad...leaving you alone,” he looked away.

“Naw, Michael. You needed to get out of this town, I always understood why you ran away. You were basically at the center of every awful thing,”

Michael murmured, “Cass...Lizzie...my dad...you. I just felt like if I stuck around, something bad would happen to me eventually,” he scowled, “And it still happened.”

Jeremy slung one arm around his shoulder, “Just gotta make the best of it, man. I’m glad you’re still here. They declared you missing a while back and I was so worried.”

“Oh, yeah. I forgot about that,” Michael said and Jeremy burst into laughter, “You forgot you were declared missing?!

“What!” he whipped around to face him, “It’s not like it mattered!”

Jeremy still chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes. Then he suddenly sobered up, “Y’know, they thought you had something to do with your dad going missing. But I guess not.”

Michael shook his head, “I still don’t know where he went. I want...I _need_ to find him though.”

“Because this was his fault?” Jeremy gestured to him and Michael shook his head...then paused.

“Maybe. Kind of. I want to ask him why this happened.”

Among other things. He kept silent. Jeremy continued, not noticing his loaded silence, “Well, I hope he’s alright for your sake. I don’t think Mr. Afton ever liked me after the...the accident, y’know?”

Michael nodded. After the accident with Cassidy, his father gave him one of only two direct orders he ever gave him. Don’t go near his friends ever again. They’re bad influences. This was their fault.

Which he never understood because he was the ringleader. Even Jeremy, passive as he was, would have never suggested what they had done. He was only going through it because he wanted to be included. It wasn’t Michael’s friends’ or Henry’s fault Cassidy went into the coma. It was his fault, no one else’s. But his father never seemed to believe that.

Only Jeremy remained by him after that so it didn’t really matter all that much. He still regularly disobeyed his father in seeing him, as no one else wanted to be his friend. His father was always deep in something so he never noticed just how fond Michael was of Jeremy.

“I’m glad you’re still here, Jer,” he murmured, “I’ve really needed someone new to talk to. Uncle Henry is nice to be around but...y’know what I mean?"

Jeremy smiled, squeezing his shoulder, feeling his cheeks warm up, “I know. I did too.”

They walked back towards the entrance and paused once there. Jeremy patted him on the back, “Go home, get some sleep. Be safe tonight.”

Michael nodded, “Will do. This was nice. We’ll have to do this again.”

“We will!”

Once home, Henry called from the living room, “You were out long!”

He stepped into the living room, where he was watching the news. He sat down, “I told you I’d be out a little while longer. I was talking with Jeremy. Anyway, I’m going up to sleep.”

That afternoon, Michael dreamed again.

He woke to being trapped in the dark, stuck inside something. When he tried to move, he could only move so much before he hit something. It was rough, sort of worn down. He could see a little bit out of the eye holes of whatever he was trapped in, seeing light filter through a shiny thing draped over him. A tarp?

Was he under the tarp in Parts and Services, or rather inside the thing under it?

His breath hitched as he began to panic. But before he could, everything faded to black.

He woke up groggy when the alarm went off. He grumbled as he stood and shambled over to turn it off. He had half an urge to throw it at the wall but didn’t want to ruin it, as it wasn’t his. He put on his uniform, wondering back on his dream. Someone, probably one of the children, was trying to contact him, he was sure of it. But they all insisted on trying to kill him. He furrowed his eyebrows.

At work, he declined snooping or inspecting the animatronics, instead heading to the office. It was still ten minutes until everyone got moving so he leaned back in his chair. maybe he should have went and looked under the tarp? But he was so frightened of it, it made him think of that thing he didn’t want to think of again.

He clicked on the voicemail, letting the Phone Guy’s voice fill the office. He warned Michael that things would “get real” which didn’t exactly make him feel comforted.

“Uh, h-hey listen, I had an idea. If you happen to get caught and want to avoid getting stuffed into a Freddy suit, uhh, try playing dead. Ya know, go limp. Uhh, then there's a chance that... maybe they’ll think you’re an empty costume instead. Then again, if they think you’re an empty costume, they might try to... stuff a metal skeleton into you. I wonder how that would work…”

Michael curled his lip, “Oh ha, ha. I think I’ll just try not to get caught.”

Despite the warnings, he felt he finally got the hang of things. Check cameras quickly, check on Foxy every so often to keep him at bay, and if he did get loose, shut the door immediately. Freddy was moving through slowly and Michael kept a close eye on him, not looking to get caught.

He kept flipping through his cameras, only allowing himself a moment to look at them. But he paused on one. The poster on the wall was always of Freddy, he looked at it enough times, but now it was Fredbear, staring with empty eyes and white pupils. He squinted at it, wondering if perhaps he was seeing things. He leaned back away from the monitor...then screamed.

Slumped on the desk was the empty shell of Fredbear. His eyes were just as they were in the poster, empty and staring a hole into his soul. Oh God, there was still faded brown stains on his muzzle.

Michael scrambled away, kicking his chair back until it hit the locker with a clatter.

The bear’s eyes flicked up to meet his own.

“ **It’s me.”**

“ **I’m still here.”**

Michael screamed again, all the more louder. His mind was in a haze, panicking like a bird in a cage, beating itself against the walls in terror. Childishly, he drew his legs against himself and covered his eyes. He couldn’t bear to look at the shell any longer, his panic making the brown stains appear a fresh crimson.

When he uncovered his eyes, it was gone.

The rest of the night was spent in a haze, instincts taking command. It was like Michael was detached from the world, floating aimlessly as he struggled to make sense of what had happened, unable , or maybe unwilling, to process it. By some luck, he managed to make it to six, the alarm slamming him back into his body and awareness. He looked at the generator’s remaining power, around 10 percent. “I need to be more careful tomorrow,” he murmured to himself.

He shuffled out, seeing Jeremy waiting for him. Once he unlocked the door, Jeremy immediately asked, “Dude, are you alright?”

Michael waved his hand in a “sorta” motion. Jeremy frowned, “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

His eyes widened and, by his stare, he wondered if that was what happened. He clapped him on the back, “Head home. Get some rest, it should help.”

Mechanically, Michael nodded and raised his hand in farewell as he walked to his car.

Jeremy watched him go. Back at Junior’s, he had seen his fair share of weird things. An endoskeleton walking around when it had no business doing that. A shadowy rabbit hovering in his office. A disembodied golden bear head floating in the hallway. That one shook him up a bit.

He shook his head. He hoped Michael would be fine.

Once home, Michael gave the same ‘sorta’ motion to Henry when asked about work. He watched him retreat upstairs with concern but did not press.

Upstairs, Michael did not think as he changed into something comfier, a sweater and sweatpants then laid back in bed, trying to unravel what had happened. He had seen Fredbear. He hadn’t seen him since that fateful day in ‘83. Almost immediately after the accident, he was put into storage, to clean and repair. He was put on stage after but Michael refused to even go near the place. Then everything fell apart for the diner after...after what had happened to Charlie. As far as he knew, Fredbear was sold to the new company along with everything else. So why was he there at Fazbear’s, if he was there at all?

He thought again about the tarp, about the sick feeling it gave him. Perhaps...but why?

And the dreams, they felt significant. The Fredbear plush was present in all but the last. Symbolic perhaps or did it have a deeper meaning?

He glanced at the plush. He had a hunch. He didn’t like the hunch. It filled him with guilt anew.

“You need to send me a better sign than scaring the hell out of me,” he said to it.

It did not respond so he sighed, rolling over to go to sleep. He’d figure this all out tomorrow, he hoped.

After all, it was another day.


	3. Day Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael has a close call, a nice day out and finds out just what he has to do.

Michael did not dream that night. No nightmares or dreams or visions befell him. Against all odds, it was the best sleep he had gotten in a while. He was mildly disappointed when he awoke. Good sleep or not, it did not answer any of the many questions swirling in his mind. He had genuinely expected some kind of sign or message from what specter haunted him after the Fredbear scare.

He wondered if he should ask Henry about the scare. It wasn’t like his conclusion would be any different than his own: a spirit was trying to tell him something. Or to just scare him. What he needed to know was why were they trying to talk to him and how he could help.

He was also unwilling to ask Henry because he worried he’d pressure him into quitting the job. It was no small secret it worried him, especially since Michael told him what happened every shift. The Fredbear ghost was the first thing he was deliberately holding from him.

He sat up, putting his head in one hand. The spirit was probably trying to make a connection, to relate to him by using the accident. If he was, he was doing it the wrong way. When he closed his eyes he could hear his whisper but it was too soft to identify who it was. His hunch meant he had to keep going though, he had to see this through to its end. So he had to keep it a secret, until he figured out what to do.

With a sigh, he got up to get ready.

Michael had planned to get another look at the Parts and Services room when he got to the restaurant but an unexpected accident on the highway dashed those hopes. He came peeling into the parking lot, his car protesting the sudden stop. He threw open his door and once he had his things and door locked, went sprinting up to the entrance. It was only a few minutes to midnight! He swore as he came in, locking the door behind him. Who went and got so drunk they crashed on a Wednesday, almost Thursday night?!

He jogged through the dining room, not noticing the subtle movement of the animatronics’ eyes tracking his movement. He practically skidded into the office, dropping his bag to the floor and dropping himself into the chair. He really only had enough time to listen to the voicemail. He stopped for a moment to regain his bearings before he pressed play.

“Hello, hello! Hey! Hey, wow...night four, I knew you could make it!”

Michael smiled, glad to get the praise of this man he had never met.

“Uh, hey, listen. I may not be around to send you a message tomorrow.”

Michael’s smile turned to a frown as he heard loud banging in the background of the call.

“It’s, it’s been a bad night here. For me. Umm... I-I’m kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you... “ he paused to clear his throat, “...uh, when I did. Uh hey, do me a favor: maybe sometime, uh, you could check inside those suits? Uh, in the back room? Uh, I'll be trying to hold out... until someone... checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad. I-I-I-I always wondered what was in all those empty heads... back there—you know.”

He went silent as the sound of softly thrumming machinery died. He could hear crash of the doors opening and the fan’s gentle sound die. A few moments later, a music box began to play. Something groaned. “Oh no,” the Phone Guy whispered.

There was a few moments of awful silence before an ear-splitting screech played through the speaker. Michael jolted backwards. The line went dead.

He stared then just about bolted up to run to Parts and Services. But, with the sound of machinery slowing to a stop, the lights went out. He forced himself to sit back down. He couldn’t check even if he wanted to now, unless he wanted to suffer the same fate. With a resigned sigh, he picked up the remote and began checking the cameras.

Early on, he found it was in his best interest to preserve his power as all four animatronics were up and moving, out for blood. He wondered idly if they were just as aggressive with the Phone Guy but he quickly pushed that out of his mind. That meant he had to be careful, even more careful.

He eventually got into the rhythm of checking only a few of the important cameras only when he needed them and using his hearing. Still, his power was dwindling fast. He was going to cut it close.

It was nearing 6am when Foxy took an opportunity to attack, racing down the hall. Michael slammed the button to close the door just to hear Foxy’s metal feet skid across the tile. He banged on the door and he watched in despair at his power ticked down. 6 percent, 5 percent, 4 percent, 3 percent, then he was gone. He opened the door just as he heard Foxy dash away. Yeah, he was going to cut this close, maybe too close.

He bit his lip as he shut off the monitor, a habit he had gotten into to preserve power. He listened, hearing a ragged, gurgling groan to his right. A quick flash of the door light confirmed it to be Chica and he closed the door, eyeing his power meter at a lingering 1 percent.

He finally heard her leave...then the power shut off, plunging him into darkness. “Fuck!” he snapped, rushing to look through his bag for his taser.

To his left, something stopped and the tune of a music box began to play, the same from the voicemail. He froze and looked up slowly. Freddy was standing in the doorway, his mouth and eyes lit up as he played his tune. He did not move for fear of provoking him, remembering the Phone Guy’s advice of ‘playing dead’.

The lights came on and Freddy stopped, his tune going silent. They stared at each other, as if he was debating on grabbing him anyway. Michael continued to stay still until he turned and trudged back to the stage. Then he sighed and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. Alright, that was cutting it way too close.

When he finally got his nerves leveled out, he left the office, meeting Jeremy at the door. He unlocked it and right as Jeremy was walking in, he grabbed him by the arm, “Who was the guy working here before me?”

Jeremy blinked owlishly at him, “Scott...why?”

“What happened to him, is he alright?!”

Jeremy frowned deeply and sighed, “He’s...alive. The animatronics dragged him into the back room and...y’know, tried to put him in a suit. When I got here for my shift, I heard someone calling from the room so I went to go look,” he paused to shake his head, “It was so awful. I ran to call an ambulance right away. The boss wasn’t too happy.”

He could have sworn he saw Michael’s eyes flare for a moment, “Wasn’t too happy…?”

Jeremy shook his head, “Kept throwing the words “lawsuit” and “liability” around,” he scowled, “Like poor Scott was in any condition to file one. Probably still in the hospital actually. And he doesn’t have any family in the area to even do it for him.”

“That’s terrible.”

He nodded, “Especially since Scott’s been with the company since...I think the beginning? He came back like I did; it was an easy hire. He did the recordings over at Juniors’ too and maybe even at Fredbear’s.”

“And this is what he gets to show for it,” Michael scowled.

“Do wonder if Henry would remember him,” he wondered, “I mean, I don’t but I was a little full of myself.”

“A little?”

“Oi,” he playfully punched Jeremy on the shoulder who laughed.

“All that aside,” Jeremy said, “How about we go out n’ do something after I get off work? I can pick you up and we’ll find something discrete to do.”

Michael perked. He hadn’t gone out and done something for fun in well, a long time. “Sure, it’s a date!”

As he fished around in his bag for his sketchbook, he didn’t notice Jeremy’s face go beet red. He tore a page out and scribbled directions to Henry’s address on it before handing it over. Jeremy had regained his composure and took it, scanning it, “Alright, I know where this is. See you then!”

Michael left with a spring in his step.

When he got home, Henry was not awake and rather than wake him up, he sat on the couch, flicking through channels for something to watch until he did. When he eventually came downstairs, there was a distinct look of relief when he laid eyes on Michael but he didn’t call attention to it. Instead he asked, “How was work?”

“Wasn’t as bad as it could be, did cut it a little close,” he glossed over just how close he cut it

Henry shook his head, “Still looking for a clue or something? I feel you’re not telling me what you’re looking for...”

Michael pursed his lips, “I’ve got a hunch, just give me a couple more days and I think I’ll have it figured out.”

Henry’s gaze lingered on him before he moved to the kitchen. He got up to trail after him, “I wanted to ask, do you remember a guy named Scott?”

Henry paused, mid-opening the cabinet, “Hmmm...Scott Caulfield? He was one of the first guys I hired at Fredbear’s. He isn’t working at Freddy’s, is he?”

Michael frowned, “He was. He’s in the hospital though, animatronics got him.”

Henry set his container down, “I should call him,” and immediately left for the stairs.

Michael watched him go. Damn, he hadn’t expected him to up and leave. Feeling bad, he took the container and began to make some coffee for him.

Henry went right up to this office, sitting and picking up the landline. He didn’t bother trying his old number, instead ringing the hospital. After he assured them he knew the patient who would probably be happy to hear from him, he was routed through.

“Hello?”

Even ragged and wounded, the voice was unmistakable. “Hey, it’s Henry Emily. I heard about what happened and figured the least I could do is ring you, Scott,” he trailed off, “I know we haven’t talked in a while…”

“Oh, Mr. Emil-er, Henry!”

Henry internally chuckled, the man always had a habit of forgetting he said it was completely okay if he called him by his first name. “I’m glad to hear you’re doing well enough you can talk.”

“Oh yeah...I’m doing better than they expected. Hey, who told you?”

“My nephew is a friend of Jeremy’s and he told him.”

“Jeremy, of course. He saved my life, y’know. Didn’t hesitate at all. He always tells me how he does things without thinking but I’m glad he called for help without thinking,” he sighed, “The boy’s too good for Fazbear’s but he was like me, desperate for a job.

“I can imagine it being difficult for him...considering what had happened back in ‘87...” Henry murmured.

“Yeah…”

There was a long, awkward silence before Henry suggested, “Do you mind if I stop by?”

He could hear the smile in his voice, “I wouldn’t mind at all, it’s been terribly lonely.”

“Then I’ll let you go and be by soon.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

With a soft smile, Henry hung up. Scott was a great guy, he was the last person to deserve that. He was diligent, often taking on tasks he didn’t have to. He didn’t function well in high-stress situations so when Henry hired him, he gave him the task of recording manuals for the other workers, like a few for the care and use of the springlock suits. Evidently, current management did not have that level of thought for their workers.

He came downstairs to find Michael still in the kitchen. Upon hearing him come, he took a mug from the cabinet and poured him some coffee, handing it over. Henry smiled, “Hey, thanks, kiddo.”

“I felt bad interrupting you,” Michael tapped his fingers against each other.

“Nah, I’m glad you told me. I’m actually going to go visit Scott after I get some breakfast.”

Michael smiled, “I imagine he’d be happy about that.”

Henry returned his smile, “He sounded glad. By the way, Scott was very thankful for Jeremy.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him. Oh! He’s coming over to pick me up to go hang out.”

Henry’s smile widened, “Oh, look at you! Going out with a friend!”

Michael’s only response was to puff his cheeks out and grumble in embarrassment.

When he left, Michael decided to lay on the couch for the rest of the morning, half-watching the day-time programs and half-napping.

A loud honk roused him from his nap and he shot up like a rocket. It took a second before his mind began to work. Oh yeah, Jeremy. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he went to the door and opened it, to see Jeremy coming out of his car. With a smile, he closed the door behind him, walking out onto the porch. Jeremy whistled as he walked up, “Mr. Emily’s got a nice house.”

“Yeah, he’s really kind to have let me stay,” Michael wrung his hands as he nodded.

As he led them inside, Jeremy gawked, “Yeah, this kicks my apartment’s ass.”

Michael chuckled, “He doesn’t talk about it really but I think he’s still got a nice cushion of money from Fazbear’s.”

Jeremy nodded, looking around the room. Then, he said out of the blue, “What got you spooked the other night? You never said.”

“Oh, right,” to tell the truth, he hadn’t wanted to really talk about it, “Is there a gold bear anywhere in the restaurant? Like, Fredbear?”

Jeremy furrowed his eyebrows in thought, “No, but I’m also not the technician. Plus didn’t he get scrapped back in ‘83…?”

“That’s what I had hoped. I saw it on the desk the other night. Just appeared there and said ‘It’s me. I’m still here.’.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened, “Y’know. I saw something like that during my shifts at Junior’s.”

Seeing Michael perk in curiosity, he continued, “One night, I saw this huge, massive Fredbear head just floating at the end of the hall. Like, floating, actually floating. It flew at me and stopped directly in front of me, scared the hell out of me! It said I needed to leave before I hurt someone else. I got so scared I passed out and when I woke up, it was gone.”

“Before you hurt someone else…,” his eyes widened and he said, “Listen, I’ve been having weird dreams since I brought Cass’ plush with me back from the sister location.”

It took a moment for Michael’s implication to dawn on him, “You don’t think?” he ventured.

“It’s what I think. I just don’t know how to help him if I’m right.”

Seeing how Michael’s face fell, Jeremy diverted the conversation, “Let’s head on out, man. No use dwelling on that at the minute.”

Michael grabbed a face mask he had set on the side table and they both left, got in the car and pulled out of the driveway. As they did, Michael asked, “So you have any ideas on where we’re going?”

Jeremy smiled, “A few. Depends on if any are busy or not."

“It’s a Thursday afternoon, there’s gotta be somewhere that’s not busy.”

They drove through Hurricane, leaving the larger part of the small town and coming to the outskirts. They eventually reached a large building with faded mint paint and a logo with the words ‘Galaxy Bowling’ against a spiral galaxy. As Jeremy pulled into the deserted parking lot, he asked, “Remember this place?”

Michael grinned, recognition in his eyes, “Aw yeah! We came here for my 14th birthday!”

Jeremy nodded, “It’s pretty quiet nowadays so I figured it was a good place to spend the afternoon.”

Michael smiled. His 14th birthday was a nice time. His father had brought him and his three friends there for the day. Of course, Cassidy and Elizabeth had to be brought along, on account of Henry being too busy at the diner to watch them for the day. His father had basically bribed him to be kind to his siblings. Not at all like the next year, at Cassidy’s birthday, where his father had been called away to deal with an upset customer, leaving his children unattended.

He shook his head to clear the memory. He was going to have a nice fun day where guilt didn’t eat him up inside. If not for himself, then for Jeremy. He got out, following him up to the bowling alley.

He lingered by the door while Jeremy paid. He ran back with a wild grin and grabbed his arm, practically dragging him to their lane. Michael found himself laughing as he brought them to their lane. He sat down but Jeremy stayed standing up, “You mind if I get something to eat? Er...can you...eat?”

Michael chuckled softly, “Nah, it goes right through me.”

Jeremy playfully scowled, “Jackass,” and left to get himself some food.

When he returned with his plate of chicken strips and fries, Michael asked with a short laugh, “Guess you want to bowl after?”

Jeremy, already in the process of shoving a handful of fries in his mouth, nodded. Michael laughed again and they sat in amicable silence until Michael said, “Hey, Henry called Scott. He said he was thankful for you.”

“Aw, I was doing what just any decent person would have done. He told me thank you in the ambulance too, but I think he was too delirious then to remember,” he shook his head.

They lapsed back into silence, simply happy to enjoy the other’s company. Michael had his head in his hand, daydreaming when Jeremy asked, “Say, is...not being able to eat weird…,” he paused, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, “Er, sorry if that’s rude to ask!”

Michael chuckled, “I don’t mind. It’s a little weird and I am a little envious of you all not-zombies. Usually I just do my own thing...like drawing! I’ve been getting back into that.

“Sweet! I remember the little doodles you’d do on your schoolwork. Pissed off the teachers so badly,” Jeremy shook his head at the memory of their English teacher shaking Michael’s graffitied paper at him and him staring back defiantly.

Michael pitched his voice down, grumbling as he quoted, “’Mr. Afton, if your next paper is marked up like this, you will get a zero!’”

He stopped to laugh, “Of course, they never did it again after they had to meet the other Mr. Afton and deal with him.”

After Jeremy was done eating, they left to go bowl a few frames and just a few in, Michael was proving he hadn’t lost his skill. “STEEE-RIKE!” he jumped and whirled to face Jeremy with a wide grin.

Jeremy sniffed as he retrieved his ball, watching the fallen pins be set back up, “Shame you didn’t lose your ego along with everything else.”

Michael laughed, “Aw, just sore you’re losing to a dead man?”

“I dunno, how’s it feel teasing the man with the partial lobotomy?”

Michael blinked then backpedaled, “What?! No! I didn’t mean—“

Jeremy cackled as he took his turn. It was all in good fun.

The sun was touching the horizon by the time they finished up and headed out, Michael gloating about his victory to Jeremy’s amusement all the way to the car.

“I don’t wanna close my eyes, I don’t wanna miss a thing, ‘cause I’d miss you, baby and I don’t wanna miss a thing!” Michael sang a little off-key, Jeremy smiling as he drove them home.

“’Cause even—“ and there went his voice as it cracked.

Jeremy laughed, “Hasn’t your voice been under enough abuse, dude?”

“Oi, fuck off, mate,” Michael retorted, his accent slipping through as he playfully punched Jeremy on the shoulder.

Jeremy cackled all the more. He was fun to poke and prod, especially since his accent became more pronounced when he got heated.

Today was a good day. And it confirmed something for him: he still harbored feelings for Michael that returned full force. He had problems all day holding himself from blurting something embarrassing. But he couldn’t wait a whole other decade to tell him. Not to mention, with Michael going in for his fifth night, he’d be in danger. Perhaps he wouldn’t get hurt...but what if? He had to act. With a jerk of the wheel, he changed lanes.

“Huh?” Michael tilted his head but Jeremy ignored him, in favor of driving into the parking lot of the deserted park.

Michael sat up from his slouch, one eyebrow raised, “Hey, man, are you alright?”

Jeremy turned to face him, grabbing his shoulder as he did. The intense look in his eye shut him up, in favor of seeing what he had to say. Jeremy took a big breath in and slowly let it out, “I really need to tell you something I’ve wanted to tell you all day. And I need to now, in case you get hurt.”

“I won’t get hurt,” he replied, in a sure, steady tone.

“You don’t know that! I didn’t think I’d get hurt that day on the day shift and I don’t think you expected to get hurt down in that facility. I just—augh…,” he pinched the bridge of his nose, frustrated.

“Hey, hey...take your time...I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful Jer, I promise,” Michael smiled softly at him.

“Right, right,” Jeremy nodded slowly and took another deep breath, “I really like you. I have for a long while. You mean a lot to me and I can’t bear to see you hurt anymore! I don’t know if this is the right time, or if this is right at all but I really needed to say this, I really needed to get it out and I ju—"

“Hey, hey, take a deep breath,” Michael murmured, “How...how long?”

Jeremy looked away bashfully, “It must have been before your brother’s accident. I did only join your friend group because I wanted to be included...but also because I liked you.”

“Oh hell,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “I really am dense as a brick wall, I had no idea.”

Jeremy shakily giggled and nodded. Michael smiled and looked away, thoughtfully. After a moment, he said, “I think I like you too. I mean, I’ve been so glad to see you and spend time with you and I don’t think that’s because I’ve had a lack of human interaction,” he shot a crooked grin at him, “And you’ve always been the person who understood me the best I think.”

Jeremy smiled, “You think so?”

Michael nodded. “So you want to…” Jeremy ventured, a light blush on his cheeks.

“Only if you’ll have me as I am.”

“Of course!” he threw his arms around him, squeezing him tight.

He gave him a quick peck and if Michael could blush, he would. He hugged back, nestling his head in the crook of his neck. Jeremy pulled back and asked softly, “Could I kiss you?”

“Don’t think my lips completely fell off so might as well see,” he shot him a crooked grin and took initiative, pressing his lips to Jeremy’s who made a small noise of surprise. Michael laughed internally. It was a weird sensation, a little muted, but not bad.

After a while, Jeremy pulled back, “Remember, I still have to breath,” he teased.

“Oh c’mon, it wasn’t that long of a kiss.”

Jeremy laughed then pointed out, “Now you really can’t go and die on me tonight.”

“Of course, I’ll tell the animatronics my boyfriend didn’t give them permission to kill me.”

Jeremy laughed and settled back in the driver’s seat, pulling out and getting back onto the road, “Let’s get you home.”

The rest of the drive was spent in pleasant silence. At one point, Jeremy laced the fingers of his free hand into Michael’s. Neither mentioned it, simply enjoying the other’s company.

It felt like no time at all before they were pulling up Henry’s driveway, to Michael’s disappointment. The sun had long ago set and it was dark, the lights inside illuminating the porch. Jeremy parked and grabbed him in another hug, “Be safe tonight. I mean it.”

“I will, I promise,” he paused and added, “Love you.”

Jeremy grinned, “Love you too! Good night!” and let him go.

Michael got out and walked up the porch. He paused at the door and raised his hand in farewell. Jeremy smiled and returned the gesture before he got heading home himself. Michael lingered until his car rounded the bend and was out of sight.

He went inside, figuring it was his best interest to go to bed. He stopped in the living room, “Am home!” he called.

Henry twisted in his chair and smiled, “You were out long, had fun I take it?”

Michael nodded with a wide smile, “I’ll tell you about it later, I’m heading on up to sleep.”

“Sounds good, Mike. Scott was happy to see me so I’m probably going to swing by again next week so the man has some company.”

“That’s a good idea, he sounds like he needs it. Anyway, good night.”

“Night, Michael. Be safe at work.”

He headed on up to his bed, taking off his mask and his top-most layers of clothes. He collapsed on the bed and found he was a lot more tired than he expected. Even better an idea to get to sleep. He glanced at the side table where Fredbear was turned to face him. He was most certain he didn’t leave him like that but slipped away to sleep before he could wonder.

He found himself in the Parts and Services room, in his security guard uniform and holding the Fredbear plush. The tarp was in front of him, thrashing and jerking like a wild animal. He was frightened of it but fought to shove all that terror deep inside himself. He took two steps forward, so he was close enough to touch it. The thrashing stopped.

A whisper drifted through the room, “ **I’m sorry.** **Could I have him back now?** ”

He swallowed thickly and nodded, reaching for the tarp…

Michael jerked awake, blinking blearily. His eyes landed on his alarm clock, due to ring in another five minutes. He sat up, his sleepiness having melted away despite his relatively short sleep. He glanced at the Fredbear plush, still where it had been looking at him. He grabbed it and brought it up to his face, where he could look it in the eye.

He knew what he had to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i did kind of worry the confession scene was a little sudden but i reasoned that 1. these boys have known each other a decade by now, its time and 2. its not ooc for jeremy to just confess outta nowhere


	4. It's Me!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Michael finally finds out who has been trying to contact him and had a long due reunion.

When Michael got to work, he stepped out of his car with purpose, looking towards the restaurant. He slung his bag over his shoulder, slipping his hand inside and touching what he had brought along. It was go time.

He stepped inside, scanning the room just in case. It appeared just as it should be in all its dingy dark glory. He padded across the dining room. It was half an hour to midnight. He wanted to have plenty of time to spare. The animatronics were deceptively still. It felt like the universe was collectively holding its breath. That or Michael was just too tense.

He stepped into Parts and Services, closing the door behind him. It appeared untouched from the other night, which was rather telling. Pushing all grumbling at technicians out of his mind, Michael took his flashlight from his bag, clicking it on. With his free hand, he took something else out of the bag: the Fredbear plush. With a deep inhale, he took the plunge, venturing across the room and to the tarp.

The air was cold, so cold it made him shiver. The air felt energized, almost electrified and as he crossed the room, it weighed on his shoulders. His ears rang with distant cries but he forced himself onward until he stopped in front of the tarp. The thing under shifted and he froze. But it stopped, as if waiting. Taking the cue, he set the flashlight on the table, angling it at the tarp. He laid his hand on the tarp then, with a yank, pulled it off.

It was Fredbear, just as he appeared that night. He shifted and lifted his head, eyes meeting Michael’s own. The lights inside flickered on and patiently, he waited. Michael swallowed thickly and held the plush out, “You wanted this?”

The bear looked at the plush then slightly, so much it could have been missed, he nodded.

Slowly, Michael sat the plush in front of him and retreated back a few steps.

Fredbear looked down at the plush and his eyes flared with brilliant light, lighting up the area. They went black and his head slumped, lifeless. But the plush’s eyes glowed just as its true self had, brilliant and bright. Michael watched, entranced, as fog seeped from Fredbear’s mouth, collecting around the plush. The plush lifted into the air, the fog solidifying into a familiar shape, first two hands to clutch the toy with.

Michael clapped his hands to his mouth, muffling his startled cry, “Cassidy!”

Cassidy looked just as he had in life but as a ghost, he had no color. Inky black tear streaks ran down his cheeks and down his entire body. His head was bandaged tight, a forever reminder of his fate. But he was not sad or angry like Michael expected. He smiled, “Mikey…”

Michael dropped to his knees, almost lunging forward to grab him in a hug. Though his arms phased through him, the gesture was clear. He dry sobbed, “Cass, oh Cass! I never meant to hurt you! I didn’t want you to still be here, to be like this—“

Cassidy murmured, “It’s alright...really. I forgive you, Michael. I know you didn’t mean to hurt me.”

Michael looked up at his, his eyes pained, “You don’t have to do that…”

“I want to forgive you,” Cassidy’s eyes softened and he set his hand on his brother’s arm, “I know it was an accident. So I don’t blame you, not anymore.”

Michael looked down, averting his eyes. He murmured, “How are you here?”

Cassidy frowned, squeezing his plush, “I did blame you...a long time ago. I was so angry at you and so I stayed, becoming bound to Fredbear,” seeing his brother’s distraught face, he added, “But it’s okay, I was needed here.”

“Because of them,” Michael jabbed a finger at the door, at the dormant animatronics.

Cassidy nodded, “They needed help. When I found out what happened to them, my anger towards you felt so petty in comparison,” he paused and admitted, “I had given you those nightmares before I came to that conclusion though. I’m so sorry.”

“Oh,” Michael’s face fell, his eyebrows furrowed in thought. Cassidy waited patiently, bobbing in place, somewhat anxious. He was ready for his brother to reject him. He knew, he had seen how terrified his brother was in the face of the Nightmares. If he didn’t forgive him he’d understand.

But Michael smiled softly at him, “Y’know. Let’s let bygones be bygones. I forgive you.”

Cassidy grinned wide and swooped closer, wrapping his arms around him in a hug. Michael could swear he could feel a phantom touch from it but didn’t mention it. He pantomimed patting his head, “Now what did you need me for, kiddo?”

“I did want to see you. And I do want to come with you…,” he trailed off.

“There’s more to it.”

“Yes,” Cassidy’s eyes glowed in the gloom, “I want to tell the others they can move on. Who knows where Father is but he must be gone from here. So they shouldn’t be holding on anymore. I will help you find Father, for both of us and for them.”

Michael was slightly taken aback by his brother’s determination. This was a side he had never seen. He nodded. Neither of them knew where their father was but he was obviously no longer in Hurricane. Unless he was dead. Which might have been for the best but it was a thought he didn’t want to linger on. “Alright, let’s go.”

Cassidy nodded and floated away, back through the door.

He led him to the animatronics, holding up his hand to signal him to stop some distance away from the stage. He floated closer to Freddy, “Gabriel, Susie, Jerry. Can we talk?”

All at once, fog seeped out of the animatronics, through their mouths and joints. They solidified into a child in front of their respective vessel, each wearing a mask resembling them. Gabriel, Freddy’s spirit, crossed his arms, “What is it, Cass?”

Cassidy smiled, “I want to help you move on now. You know it’s time. My brother’s even here to help,” he gestured to Michael who tensed as each child’s head snapped to face him.

Gabriel scowled, “What are you talking about? We don’t move on until the Purple Man is gone.”

Jerry, Bonnie’s spirit, piped up, “Yeah and we’re still here! So he’s still here!”

Cassidy scowled, raising his head to look down at them, “You know he can’t hurt you anymore. It’s time to move on.”

“How do you know?!” Susie, Chica’s spirit, wailed, “I don’t wanna be hurt again!”

“He’s in league with the Purple Man,” a voice came from Foxy’s cove.

Foxy was half out of the cove, bent over like a puppet who’s strings had been cut. But his bright orange eye was staring a hole in Michael. His spirit, Fritz, was hanging off his shoulder and pointed an accusing finger at Michael, “Look, that’s him there!”

“Wait, wait, what?!” Michael sputtered, “I’m not him!”

Gabriel’s eyes widened, “Why, you’re right! Looks just like him!”

“He’s come to hurt us again!”

“We can’t let him!”

Cassidy moved protectively in front of Michael and snapped, “That makes no sense and you know it! I told you, the Purple Man will never hurt anyone again! So back off, I won’t let you hurt my brother!”

Gabriel raised his head, glaring at Cassidy before blinking out of sight, each other spirit blinking out with him. As all the animatronics’ eyes began to glow, realization dawned on him. He turned to face his brother, “Run!” he cried.

Michael didn’t need to be told twice, bolting for the door. He fumbled for his keys but a force ripped them out of his hands, launching them somewhere into the darkness. He hissed, catching sight of Bonnie lumbering off the stage, “Fine, have it your way,” and with that, he bolted for the office, his brother shooting after him.

Once inside, he all but threw himself into the chair and dropped his bag on the floor. Immediately, he was at the cameras, seeing Bonnie lumber towards the hall. Cassidy settled on the desk, “I didn’t know they’d react like that...I’m sorry…I was never good at getting through to them like she was...” he murmured.

He noted his usage of “she” but didn’t call attention to it. He had bigger things to worry about. He sucked air through his teeth in a hiss, “This is bad. I thought they wouldn’t mistake me for Dad!”

“Doesn’t matter,” Cassidy shook his head, “They’ve lost their sense of self and reality. When you are in here at night, and wearing the uniform to boot, you become the Purple Man in their eyes. It’s not because you’re literally purple. I really am sorry.”

Michael frowned, “Listen, you tried your best. Don’t feel bad. Now we just need to deal with the hand we’ve been dealt,” he looked at the monitor, flipping through the cameras.

Not finding Bonnie, he checked the door. Bonnie screeched and moved to enter the office only to have the door slammed in his face.

They were relentless that night, even moreso than they should be. They stuck to a routine typically, whether it be something their souls were bound to or a choice, Cassidy didn’t know. What he did know was that this wasn’t normal. They were angry, showing up at the door nearly every hour.

But his brother was relentless as well. He didn’t speak or even complain, sharply monitoring them, whether it be by sight or his own hearing. Cassidy was impressed. This was a far off call from the Michael he once knew. Whatever he had gone through during their years apart had honed and sharpened him into a new person. He did his job and he did it well.

But not well enough. It was still half an hour to six and the power had just dropped into single digits. Both brothers were tense, well aware what this meant. Cassidy felt like a coiled spring, ready to leap into action.

Michael had just opened the door, once Chica lumbered away. He eyed the monitor and his eyes went wide, “Fuck, fuck…”

On cue, the power died.

He looked to his brother, eyes wide with fear. Cassidy’s widened too and he floated up off the desk and in front of him. He looked defiantly at the door, “I’ll protect you.”

It felt weird, his little brother being the one to protect him. But he didn’t have a lot of choice and instead sunk down into his chair, staring out the door. Metallic clunks sounded down the hall, coming closer before they stopped in front of the door. Freddy’s music box began to play, his eyes lighting up as it did. Cassidy snarled, “Back off! I told you, Michael isn’t your killer!”

Freddy slightly tilted his head, letting his eyelids fall to half-lid his eyes. He continued to play his music box. He didn’t care about what Cassidy had to say.

Cassidy shot up to him, his eyes flaring white and the tear drops rolling down his cheeks like in an inky flow. “Back off, Gabriel!” he yelled.

He wanted to reach out, to wrestle control from him and take a hold of Freddy. But Gabriel had been with Freddy a long time and wouldn’t part with him. If Fredbear had more structure perhaps, he could animate him and fight off the other animatronics.

“Cassidy, CASSIDY!” he whirled in place to find Bonnie had snuck up on them and grabbed Michael by the leg, dragging him out of the office.

He abandoned Freddy to scream at Bonnie, “Let him go!”

Bonnie disregarded him entirely in favor of picking up Michael and turning to lumber down the hall where Chica was standing guard. Michael struggled, pushing away with one hand. He used the other to point at the office, “Taser, I have a taser!”

Cassidy turned to the office, his eyes landing on Michael’s abandoned bag. He thrust his arms in front of him, pouring all his fury and fear into his powers. The taser shot out of the bag, glowing a light gold, and flew across the office and out the door. Michael deftly caught it out of the air and twisted himself, so he could jam it between Bonnie’s head and neck. He grinned viciously, “Time for your controlled shock,” and clicked it on.

Immediately, Bonnie screeched and began to seize, his eyes lit up in pure white. He dropped Michael like a rock, the taser clattering beside him. But unfortunately, he also writhed and seized, his eyes flashing wildly as electricity coursed through him. Then he went limp, the lights in his eyes flickering and dying. Cassidy shrieked, “MICHAEL!” and swooped down to collapse over him.

Bonnie lurched back to life, twitchy but still functional. He reached down to grab Michael by his collar but Cassidy threw himself over him and shrieked, “ **GO AWAY!** ”

The residing spirit within Bonnie froze and Bonnie with him. It was no small secret that Cassidy was prone to wild fury and he had a vengeful streak. Often, he was quiet and meek but when he was angry, he was furious. It was terrifying. The last time the spirits saw him like this, they were all after a common enemy but now? He wasn’t sure what to think.

He looked helplessly over to Freddy, whose spirit had emerged. The Purple Man had attacked Bonnie but it wasn’t as devastating as last time. In fact, he hurt himself and judging by how still he was and the fact he did not breath, it might have been fatal. Again? They had killed him once before but judging by their continued existence on this plane, it didn’t take. Along with Cassidy’s newfound caring for the man, it didn’t make any sense at all.

“ **I SAID GO AWAY!** ” he screamed at the gawking spirits.

Thoroughly cowed, they directed their vessels to return to their places rather than stay and incur their friend’s wildfire wrath. Finally alone, Cassidy buried his face into Michael’s shoulder and sobbed, “Please wake up, Mikey. I just found you, I can’t lose you! Please!”

“Wow...you really weren’t lying about forgiving me, huh?”

“Mikey!” Cassidy cried, embracing his brother tightly.

He sobbed, inky black tears washing down his cheeks like a waterfall, “I thought—I thought you were dead!”

“No, no,” he sat up slightly, “Knew it wouldn’t kill me. Hurt like a bitch but wouldn’t kill me.”

Cassidy giggled through his tears, “You still have a bad mouth."

“...that’s your takeaway?”

He giggled more and nodded, “I’m just glad you’re okay,” he paused thoughtfully, “Why are you purple anyway?”

“Long story. Get off me, kiddo. It’s not quite six yet so I don’t want to lay here until then.”

Cassidy floated up off him and he sat up, retrieving the taser and tucking it into his belt. He limped into the office, hissing at the pain that jolted up his leg. He was sure nothing was damaged but Bonnie had grabbed him pretty hard when he yanked him out of the office. His whole body stung dully from the electricity that had raced down and through him. He collapsed into his chair, leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Cassidy asked, frowning from his spot on the desk.

“I am, I just hurt. Nothin’ some rest won’t fix. I’ve been through a helluva lot worse.”

Cassidy still frowned but didn’t ask.

They sat in silence until the alarm rang. Michael groaned but sat up, switching it off. He stood, not favoring his good leg as much but still obviously in pain. Cassidy retreated into the plush so he could tuck it into the bag. The last thing he needed to do was lose it now. He picked it up and tied on the Foxy mask on before trekking out. He groaned as he realized he’d have to find the keys.

Jeremy wasn’t there right away but when he did, he was relieved to see Michael. Though confused as he was pacing the hall, flashlight to the ground and a limp in his step. Finally, he grabbed something from the ground with a triumphant expression. He limped over to the door and unlocked it. Jeremy nearly tackled him in a hug, “You’re alright!”

Michael smiled, patting his back, “Oh ye, of little faith!”

Jeremy stepped back, crossed his arms and pointed out plainly, “You have a limp.”

“Oh well—“

“Mike, m’boy!”

Both turned to see the boss come in. He clapped Mike on the shoulder and grinned, “Congrats on your first week! Sit around for a minute and I’ll write you your check.”

Michael smiled stiffly and nodded. Oh well, he could wait to tell him he decided to quit until after he got his check. The boss paused in the middle of the room to inspect the animatronics. They were all in their positions except for Bonnie, who was half slumped over. He looked over at Mike inquisitively, looking him over before he saw the taser hanging from his belt. “What’s that you have there, Schmidt?” he asked in a tone of deceptive patience.

Michael looked down at the taser. Oh well. He looked back up and sneered, “Bonnie bitch tried to drag me off to kill me so I tased him. The fuck you gonna do about it?”

He even unclipped the taser and waved it at him. Just as he was aiming for, the boss’ face went beet red. He growled through gritted teeth, “Stay right there.”

As they watched him rush off, Jeremy commented, “You’re so getting fired.”

“Jokes on him, I was going to quit.”

Jeremy shook his head, chuckling, “You’re a madman. So I take it you found what you came here for?”

He smiled, his hand subconsciously resting on the bag, “I did. I’ll tell you the whole story later...but you might wanna come by for it.”

“Later tonight?” Jeremy asked.

“Sure, I should be up by then. I’m gonna go home and pass out after this.”

He smiled, “Well, I’m glad I won’t have to worry sick over you,” he pulled him into a one-armed hug.

Michael set his head on his shoulder, “Yeah, now I just have to do the same over you.”

“No need, if they put me on the night shift, I’m quitting. I’m no idiot, ain’t no way I’m going through that again!”

Michael chuckled then paused, confused, “Are you calling me an idiot?”

“Well, I ain’t saying you have an ounce of sense left in you.”

He pulled away and playfully punched him. Jeremy laughed, rubbing his shoulder, “Careful there!”

Both of them sobered up as the boss stalked into the room and over to them. He shoved a pair of slips into Mike’s hands and growled, “Hand over your keys and I better never see you again, Mr. Schmidt!”

Instead of giving another snarky comment, he handed over his keys then inspected the pair of slips. There was his paycheck, as promised and a pink slip saying he had been fired for “tampering with the animatronics, unprofessionalism and bad odor”. He had thought he was keeping his body in decent upkeep! He scowled and said in a whisper to Jeremy, “Should have taken off the mask and given him a real scare.”

Jeremy choked back a laugh, “He could call the cops then..!”

“I wasn’t going to really do it,” he assured as he tucked the slips into his pocket.

“Mr. Fitzgerald, get on duty before your pay is docked!” the boss yelled from the hall.

Jeremy flinched and Michael sighed, “Don’t get in trouble on my account. See you later?”

“Of course, I’ll swing by this evening!”

He left and went out to his car, taking out Fredbear and tossing the bag into the back. He paused then set Fredbear into the passenger seat, buckling him in. Once more, Cassidy manifested and grinned at him, a grin Michael returned. As Michael settled into the driver’s seat, he asked, “So you still have the mask?”

“Oh this?” he asked as he took it off and sheepishly smiled, “Is it a problem?”

Cassidy paused then shook his head, “I thought you’d never wear it again after what happened.”

“Well, I needed a disguise and I think ol’ Foxy has more then redeemed himself,” he shrugged as he placed the mask on top of his bag.

“I think Foxy has redeemed himself too after tonight,” Cassidy agreed, giving Michael a knowing look.

His gaze lingered on his brother for a moment more before he buckled himself in and started up the car. He pointed out, “You’ll be able to see Uncle Henry too.”

“Oh! Alright!” Cassidy grinned, waving his legs in excitement, “He’s doing alright? I’ve been worried!”

Michael smiled as he put the car in reverse, “I’d say he’s doing alright. Like I said, he’s been such a big help, I’m so grateful for him. Seeing you will be a big surprise.”

Cassidy grinned, mischief twinkling in his eyes, “Yeah, let’s make it a surprise!”

Once home, Michael strode in. The kitchen light was on so Henry was up and about. He called, “Uncle Henry, I got fired!”

“What the—“

Henry left the kitchen, eyebrows raised, “You got fired? Did you mouth off or something?”

Michael chuckled and walked past him into the kitchen. He set his bag down at the table and sat, “I tased Bonnie,” he clarified, “It’s a whole thing.”

Henry clenched his jaw then sighed. He pinched the bridge of his noise, “Let me get some coffee on board for this.”

He sat down a few minutes later, a full mug of coffee in his hands that he held, like he was grounding himself. Michael pulled Fredbear from his bag with a flourish, “It starts with Fredbear here,” he set it in front of Henry, “So I’ll start there with Cass’ help.”

Henry raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to question him but went silent as fog seeped from the plush’s mouth. It gathered above the plush and with a _pop_ , Cassidy manifested. He smiled, “Uncle Henry!”

He gawked then sputtered, “C-Cassidy!?”

Cassidy giggled, floating down to sit in front of him. “Yep! I’ve been here!”

Henry looked from one brother to the other, bewildered. The he shook his head and muttered, “You Aftons, you’ll be the death of me. Alright, boys, come clean.”

Michael began, starting with the first dream and all the way to what had happened that early morning. Henry waited, albeit impatiently if his increasingly exasperated expression was anything to go on. Finally, he groaned, “Michael, why did you keep this all from me?”

He looked away, somewhat ashamed, “I was afraid you’d want me to quit or get rid of the plush.”

“Well, I can’t lie and say I wouldn’t want you to quit the job after I found out the animatronics were that vicious. Almost did after hearing about Scott,” he paused and sighed, “But if you told me what you thought was going on, I would have understood.”

Seeing Michael sigh deeply, he casually deflected, “Still, I’m happy you two reunited and looks like you made up too, huh?”

Cassidy nodded happily, “I know he didn’t mean it.”

“You didn’t see him after, he was so terribly torn up, weren’t you Michael?”

Michael nodded, “I felt like I would have done just about anything to bring you back or turn the clock back so I could stop the accident.”

Cassidy smiled at him, feeling a jolt of shame about his revenge to Michael. He pushed it away and looked back at Henry. He sighed and said quietly, “Uncle Henry. Michael. There’s something else I need to tell you, something I didn’t tell Michael.”

Both perked up. Henry ventured, “What is it, kid?”

“You know, the Puppet? What happened with her?”

Henry furrowed his eyebrows, “’Course. They found it out in the rain after...after what happened to Charlie. Had to do all sorts of repairs on her to get her up n’ running again. We put her in Junior’s. The employees said she freaked them out, that she would stare,” he paused and he whispered, realization dawning on his face, “What are you implying, Cass?”

He paused then said softly, “Charlie is the Puppet.”

Henry’s chair clattered on the floor, it falling from the sheer force of him springing to his feet. “My Charlie?!” he cried.

Cassidy nodded slowly.

“Where is she!?”

He looked away then admitted, “I don’t know. She was with us before the revamp but they took her away somewhere. I’m sorry. I just thought you should know.”

Henry stared then slowly, picked up the chair and sat back down. He pressed his head into his hands and sighed, obviously fighting back tears. He murmured, “I am glad to know. Now I can look for her.”

The brothers exchanged a glance before Michael rising, “I’m going upstairs...is that alright?”

Henry only nodded, letting both leave. As they ascended the stairs, Cassidy asked, “Why’d we just leave him?”

“Because I know Henry. He has a certain pride around him, he’d rather have that kind of reaction in private. He probably needs to process it,” Michael murmured.

Cassidy frowned but didn’t speak right away. As they came into Michael’s room, he asked, “Was that the right time to tell him?” he asked.

Michael nodded, “He would have wanted to know,” he sat on the edge of the bed, “So I guess now I get to tell another story?”

Cassidy nodded, seemingly energized once more, “Yes, why are you purple!”

“It’s not exactly a happy story,” he paused, “But it is one you oughtta hear.”

Upon seeing him nod, he laid back on the bed, putting the plush back on the headboard. Cassidy drifted to sit beside him. He began, “It began when Dad called me up to help…”

He missed the slight twitch in Cassidy’s expression as he continued. Cassidy was a good listener, quiet and patiently listening to the story. He kept his hands folded in his lap and rarely reacted, but the Scooping Room did get a wince from him. Finally, after Michael finished, he cried, “That’s awful! Why’d Father send you down there if it was dangerous!?”

Michael sighed, running his hands through his hair, “I don’t think he meant for me to get hurt. But he should have given me a heads up to what the Funtimes were like.”

Cassidy nodded quickly in agreement. Then he asked, “So Lizzie’s still out there?”

“Should be. Dad had this tracker in this...sub-basement? So I could find her but I wouldn’t know what to do when I found her. She doesn’t want to be kept anywhere.”

Cassidy sighed, resting his head in his hands, “I hope she’s okay.”

“I do too. I really do miss her,” he sighed and rolled onto his side, “It’s been a long day."

“Too long?”

“Well, it was alright up until the ‘killer animatronics’ part,” he smiled wistfully, “I had a nice day with Jeremy before.”

“Your boyfriend?” Cassidy asked, innocently.

Michael turned, squinting at him, “I didn’t tell you anything about that.”

“So you don’t deny it,” Cassidy grinned.

“...shut up brat,” he rolled his eyes, no real fire behind the insult.

Then he turned back, pulling the blanket over himself, “Good night, sleep tight.”

“Night, night, Mikey,” Cassidy murmured, retreating back into the plush.

But Michael did not sleep. His mind refused to rest, chasing itself in circles, asking question upon unanswered question. He laid like that for maybe half an hour before he broached the silence.

Cassidy was nearly asleep when he heard his brother murmur, “Cass...are you awake?”

He roused himself enough to answer but not to manifest. He asked, “I am, what’s wrong?”

Michael’s next question was a murmur, “Do you know why...Dad did what he did?”

Cassidy went silent for a few moments but unfortunately, it was a telling one. Michael sat up in bed, his purple eyes cutting through to him, “You do know.”

It wasn’t a question. He didn’t want to say, he knew the conclusion he would jump to. But his brother was staring holes in the plushie and if he was anything like he was as a teenager, he didn’t back down. He didn’t think he knew the concept of “backing down”. He might have smiled if it wasn’t such a grave conversation so instead he sighed, manifesting fully beside him.

His face was dark and shadowed, only the white pupils of his eyes shining out.

“Before I passed away, Father told me he’d “put me back together, by any means possible”. At the time, I had no idea what he meant and quickly forgot. Sometime after though, I found Charlie in the Puppet’s box. She was a spirit, like me. And soon after, I saw him kill those children and put them in the suits. He came in often, speaking to Fredbear like I was in it. I never manifested though. But he told me of his plans. He knew when the children were put into suits or killed close to one, they stayed. He didn’t know why but he was determined to find out and use that knowledge to “call me back””.

He paused and sighed, “There were other reasons. He was angry, very angry. And unstable. But scared too. Scared he would die.”

He stopped, letting Michael digest what he had said. As his face fell, he knew he had come to the conclusion he had feared. He murmured, “This is all _my_ fault.”

“It isn’t,” Cassidy said sharply.

“No!” he cried, “If I didn’t kill you, Dad wouldn’t have killed all those children!”

Cassidy shot up, floating right in front of him, “You can’t say that, you didn’t make him do it! Normal people don’t kill people when they grieve!”

Michael wanted to argue but the look on Cassidy’s face was so venomous he couldn’t find it in himself to protest. His jaw worked as he struggled to respond. Finally he looked away and murmured, “I guess you’re right.”

“You shouldn’t blame yourself for something Father did,” Cassidy drifted down to sit beside him, “I’m sorry I got so upset.”

Michael didn’t look convinced but didn’t argue, instead opting to lie down. Cassidy felt awful. He wished his brother would have never asked, that he never had to reveal the secret. That perhaps he would be content in never knowing. But no, Michael was as stubborn as he had become self-blaming. He patted his shoulder, “Do you remember that thing that Mom used to say?”

Michael rolled over to face him, “Tomorrow is another day?”

Cassidy nodded, “Just because today is bad, tomorrow is another day. You can’t dwell, you must move forward.”

Michael paused then smiled, “Thank you Cass.”

“I don’t want you to be sad. I love you, good night.”

“Good night.”

Cassidy didn’t immediately retreat into the plush to rest though. He sat cross-legged, waiting for his brother to sleep. It wasn’t easy to tell; when he laid still, he looked as dead as he should be. He didn’t breath and he barely moved, only shifting a little to get comfortable. But when the light behind his eyelids flickered off, he figured he was asleep.

Michael’s condition stoked the fire burning inside of Cassidy. Whether their father meant for him to get hurt or not, it didn’t matter. This was his fault.

It hurt to keep secrets from Michael but it was for the best.

He knew exactly where their father was and it was where he intended for him to stay.

Eventually, he sighed deeply and retreated into the plush, letting himself go dormant and rest.


End file.
